


First Snow

by GodsHumbleClown



Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Brotherly Love, Snow, Snowball Fight, Tumbler is everyone's brother
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-05
Updated: 2020-12-05
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:07:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27887281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GodsHumbleClown/pseuds/GodsHumbleClown
Summary: This is a gift for Spinning-Yarns for the newsies gift exchange!Prompt : newsies getting the first snowfall of winter
Comments: 1
Kudos: 10
Collections: Canon Era Newsies One Shots





	First Snow

Jack Kelly did not particularly like the winter. It didn't get this cold in New Mexico, he was sure of that much.

Freezing rain whipped past his face on the way home from the Jacobs' place, back to the warm lodging house. He'd better hurry, or Kloppman wouldn't be up to let him in. Jack did not like the idea of sleeping on the streets on a night like tonight, that was for sure. 

He rolled his shoulders to keep them from stiffening as the old brick building came into sight, practically glowing with warmth. 

Jack quickened to a jog, slipping in under Kloppman's arm as the old man went to lock the door for the night.

* * *

Jack woke the next morning to someone, probably Tumbler, squealing excitedly right next to him. 

"It's snowing!" 

Sure enough, it was, and had been all night, by the looks of it. The street and buildings outside lay covered in a thick and still building blanket of snow, the kind that would get absolutely disgusting by the end of the day, what with horses, people, and automobiles going back and forth. 

But for now, it looked lovely, like a Christmas card, and for just a moment, Jack forgot about how cold it was. 

Tattered coats and old, worn mittens were tugged on, donations from the Sisters down by St. Peter's church. 

Tumbler struggled for a moment, blocking the stairs, as apparently he'd forgotten thumbs existed. 

Jack heaved the boy up onto his shoulders and received gleeful laughter in response. 

"Jack! Put me  _ down! _ " 

Boots reached up to help wriggle Tumbler's mittens onto his hands. "Swear, I'm the only one who's got brains around here," the boy lamented. 

Jack whacked him on the side of the head, but had no comeback ready.

"Jack, come on!" Tumbler kicked at his arms. 

"Put me down."

"Nah," Jack shook his head and spun around a little. 

"Think I'll take you with me today. Find some polar bears to feed ya to."

"I don't want to be eaten by a polar bear! Itey, don't let polar bears eat me!"

Itey pulled Jack's tattered scarf up over his eyes, nearly sending all three of them tumbling down the stairs. 

"Don't feed Tumbler to bears," he scolded Jack. "They'll get indegestion." 

Tumbler squealed again, and Itey tickled his stomach. 

Kloppman muttered something about them being a bunch of wild monkeys before being distracted from his grouchy old man grumbling by grabbing Snipeshooter to button his coat properly. 

Jack stepped out into the crisp air, snowflakes still falling heavily. The business side of him was more than a little annoyed; he still hated cold, and keeping the papes dry in weather like this would be quite the task. The much larger part of him, on the other hand, the part that was a mischievous seventeen year old boy, distracted the business part by swinging Tumbler down into the snow and immediately shoving a handful of snow down Racetrack's shirt. 

"Hey!" Racer yelled, distracted from the snowball he'd been about to throw at Blink. 

This sudden burst of noise, of course, made Blink suddenly aware of Racetrack's sneaking, thus prompting swift and deadly revenge. 

By the time they heard the sound of the circulation bell ring out into the muffled city, a full-out war had broken out, snow in hair and dusted on coats. 

But eventually the bell did ring, of course, so peace had to begin.

"Carrying the banner," Boots quipped, dragging Snipeshooter out of an ever-growing snowbank and on to his feet. 

"Carrying the banner," Jack agreed. He brushed the snow off his coat and hair, heading off to be the first one in line for papers. 

World didn't stop spinning just because of a little snow, that was for sure, and the spin would be a lot more interesting if Jack Kelly was there to sell it.


End file.
